Gaslight (Crossbreed #4)(16)
“Niko, let me see.” I reached out and lifted the bottom of his shirt. “Oh shit. How deep is that?”
Blood trickled from a two-inch-long cut in his abdomen. When I peered around him, there was a similar mark on the other side. His pallor and blood-soaked shirt made me shudder. Niko was a Healer, but his ability to self-heal was like any other Mage. This guy needed sunlight, but I couldn’t stand to watch him suffer for hours.
When I grabbed his hands, he jerked them away.
“Now’s not the time,” I said. “You’ll bleed out before morning.”
“I won’t die,” he rasped.
“No, but Viktor called us home for a meeting or something. Do you want me to explain why you’re unconscious in the van with a hole in your gut?”
I took his hands, which were usually warm, and turned them over so our palms were touching. After a deep breath, I tapped into my core light and channeled the healing energy from it. When it reached my hands, the static tickled my palms as spidery webs of blue light threaded between us.
Christian glowered. It wasn’t my healing Niko that bothered him so much as the intimate nature of sharing light—something he’d never experience with me.
Before I finished, Niko broke the connection and touched the healed mark on his stomach. “You have my gratitude, but your light tells me you’re also injured. I can’t accept any more. You shouldn’t have given me what you need to heal yourself.”
“It’s just a scratch,” I said with a snort. In truth, my leg throbbed as if someone had shoved a hot iron through it. But I’d developed a high tolerance for pain, just not high enough to walk across the parking lot. “Christian, why don’t you bring the van around?”
After he whirled around and strode off, Niko removed his cloak and offered it to me. “You should have dressed for the weather. Shepherd remarked about your attire on the way here.”
“Shepherd has a lot of opinions he can keep to himself.” I slid my arms through the sleeves of the long coat. “We killed one of those men.”
A look I couldn’t discern flickered in his expression. “Do you know which one?”
“It wasn’t Kallisto.”
Niko’s voice became flat and cold. “Then I hope it was Plato.”
The Greek names gave me pause. “Are they your brothers?”
He looked off to the left. “We share the same light.”
Which meant they were from the same Creator. “That Cyrus guy, were you holding back? You took on two of his men last time. I’ve seen you fight.”
“Cyrus is very skilled with his weapon. He was once part of a nomadic tribe in Asia under the rule of Genghis Khan. If he ever approaches you when I’m not around—run. His blade is a force to be reckoned with, and it has been whetted with the souls of innocents.”
A bitter wind blew against my face, and I hugged my middle. “What does he want from you?”
“Something he will never have.” Niko reached out, and when he touched my shoulder, he put his arm around me and quieted his voice. “Speak of this to no one. Long ago, we were kept as slaves. It took many years, but Cyrus planned our escape after our Creator met his… untimely demise. You realize the implications.”
Niko didn’t need to spell it out. If Cyrus had planned and executed their Creator’s murder, and Niko was part of their group, then he was an accomplice in the eyes of our law.
“I won’t tell anyone.”
He stepped aside. “I spent many years in slavery because of that man. I refuse to become a prisoner for something I didn’t do.”
“You don’t think after all the work you’ve done for Keystone that they’d turn a blind eye? You didn’t actually commit the act.”
“The higher authority might not care, but the Mageri does whatever it likes. Do you think they would take Cyrus’s word or mine? They could use a Vampire to question me and find out I played no part in the murder, but I knew it happened and made no attempt to turn Cyrus in for the crime. In fact, I stayed with them. The Mageri likes to make an example out of those who break the law. Murdering a Creator—especially one’s own—is a high crime. They value Creators more than anyone else.”
“Why did your Creator make slaves?”
“It was how men retained power in ancient times. They acquired slaves as guards, servants, spies, and whores. Some were chosen and others made by force. Almost all began as slaves, kept in chains and ignorance until they were ready. Only then would he teach us how to use our powers. A new Learner is too weak and inexperienced to overpower their Creator, and whether we like it or not, our Creator’s light lives within us and it beckons us to be loyal. It makes the betrayal that much harder, no matter how much you hate them. Cyrus possessed no such loyalty, because he is a man without conscience. Cyrus has always despised those who aren’t like us. According to him, our Creator was white.”
“Only white men, or anyone who isn’t his nationality? Because I hate to break the news, but you two don’t look remotely similar.”
“All Cyrus sees in me are common physical attributes. He did not come from my country or clan, and we do not share the same blood.”
“Does Viktor know all this?”
“Viktor knows the important highlights about my past but not the details. He doesn’t know about Cyrus. If Cyrus decides not to give up this foolish quest, I’ll have no choice but to tell Viktor. You haven’t been with us long enough, but sometimes we have skirmishes and look out for each other. Viktor doesn’t always know every detail of what happens when we go out. It’s safe to say that we’ve all made enough enemies to last a lifetime. This situation is clearly beyond his ability to control.”